


Expectations

by GideonGraystairs



Series: Love Finds A Way [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Downworlder Politics, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Platonic Life Partners, Post-Divorce, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GideonGraystairs/pseuds/GideonGraystairs
Summary: “You deserve to be happy,” Lydia had told him when she’d given back her wedding ring. “For once in your life, Alec, be a little selfish. Do something for yourself.”Now, staring at his signature on their divorce papers, Alec couldn’t help but feel the weight of all the expectations he would never live up to. All he’d ever wanted was to be perfect.You’re a Lightwood,his parents had always said.Anything short of perfection and you’ll disgrace this family.An AU where Alec doesn't meet Magnus until after he marries Lydia, and doesn't start get to know him until after they divorce.
Relationships: Lydia Branwell & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Love Finds A Way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120097
Comments: 23
Kudos: 195





	Expectations

Alec had spent most of his life doing what was expected of him.

He’d mastered the bow because he’d been expected to watch his siblings’ backs and compensating for their close-range weapons was the best way to do it. He’d taken Jace under his wing the first day he’d arrived and taught him how the Institute worked because, as the oldest, his parents expected Alec to be responsible for him. He’d trained himself bloody every time his thoughts of Jace had drifted away from brotherhood because, as the oldest, he was the one most expected to uphold their family values and keep the Lightwood name clean and honorable.

He’d fought himself, cut out parts of himself, pushed and pushed and pushed them down until they all but disappeared, because it was expected of him.

He’d married Lydia because it was expected of him. Not to be with her, specifically, but someone. Some respectable woman from a well-established Shadowhunter family who would run the Institute with him. Who would be able to carry on the Lightwood family to another generation.

That was what was _expected_ of him.

Yet, here he was.

_“You deserve to be happy,”_ Lydia had told him when she’d given back her wedding ring. _“For once in your life, Alec, be a little selfish. Do something for yourself.”_

Now, staring at his signature on their divorce papers, Alec couldn’t help but feel the weight of all the expectations he would never live up to. They nearly crushed him, but they weren’t the worst of it. The worst was knowing how he’d hurt the ones he loved. How he’d hurt _Lydia_.

All he’d ever wanted was to be perfect. _You’re a Lightwood_ , his parents had always said. _Anything short of perfection and you’ll disgrace this family_.

And he had been perfect, in so many ways. He’d been the perfect son. His marriage to Lydia Branwell — a nice, respectable woman whose family held a lot of sway with the Clave — had rescued them from the shambles his parents’ association with the Circle had left them in. He’d kept Jace and Izzy out of trouble, mostly, and cleaned up their messes if he failed. He’d done _everything_ right.

_“I thought that this was the best thing for both of us,”_ Lydia had said. She hadn’t looked sad. Her eyes were as kind as they’d always been. _“But I was wrong. All it’s doing is hurting you, Alec.”_

He wondered what she’d seen that had made her think that. Alec had so carefully tucked those parts of himself away. She had known, of course, before she’d met him at the altar. But that was the entire point — this was the greatest happiness he could have, to commit his life to someone he loved, no matter what kind of love it was. It had been such a relief to draw the rune that bound them together. He didn’t have to worry anymore that someone would find out, would ask questions.

_“I love you,”_ she’d said, with that same gentle smile she always had.

He loved her, too. She was his best friend, his partner. Wasn’t that enough?

_No_ , the papers on his desk screamed at him. What was he supposed to do now?

Alec didn’t know. He’d been in his office for hours now, staring at the end of this chapter of his life, trying to decide how the next one should start. _Do something for yourself_ , she’d said. He knew exactly what _something_ she meant.

But the same fear that had always gripped him at the thought came to him now. It trickled up the back of his neck, squeezing his throat, and then flowed down to the scars on his hands. 

Even if he was braver now, he wouldn’t know where to start.

.

It turned out that getting drunk was a pretty good place to start, actually. And Alec did it _spectacularly_ , downing shots until the room spun and it didn’t feel weird to pick up a glass and not feel his wedding ring digging into his finger. He thought, probably, that he shouldn’t have done this at a bar frequented by most of the Downworlders he knew, but Luke only patted him on the shoulder with a tense smile and left him to drink away his problems. Alec wondered if he knew, wondered how fast the news would spread. Had it already?

“And what, pray tell, is the head of the New York Institute doing getting drunk all alone at this fine _Downworld_ establishment?”

The voice was attached to one Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn.

Alec hadn’t shared more than a passing word with Magnus outside of cabinet meetings, and even then their ideals aligned often enough that they rarely had to go back and forth to settle an argument. Alec didn’t know anything about him outside of his file and the reports Jace had written up for him what felt like a lifetime ago, when they’d needed all the help they could get to retrieve Clary’s memories and put a stop to Valentine, once and for all.

Alec turned back to his drink, perfectly happy to ignore him and whatever cabinet business he wanted to discuss. He was as far from the mood as one could get. “That’s none of your business,” he grumbled.

Magnus leaned against the bar, squeezed between Alec and the person next to him. He looked amused. “Prickly, are we?”

_Annoying, are we?_ Alec thought but didn’t say. Instead he tried to convey it with his face, giving him his best please-fuck-off-I-don’t-want-to-deal-with-this-right-now face. He’d mastered it at a young age, thanks to his siblings. As they’d gotten older, they’d started to develop an immunity so they could keep wreaking havoc and coming to him to fix it.

“Relax,” Magnus acquiesced. He waved a hand, as if to say ‘ _go ahead’_. “I’m not going to stop you.”

Alec frowned. _What are you here for, then?_ he didn’t say. Instead, he muttered, “Thanks,” and went back to staring down at the amber liquid in his glass. It was the same as what he kept in his office, though he’d been burning through it much too quickly as of late. That was the reason he was here, where the supply seemed to never run out.

“Although,” Magnus continued, and Alec inhaled deeply. “I do admit I’m curious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be anything but the perfect, straight-laced Shadowhunter delegate. What has you loosening your strings so, oh Nephilim?”

Alec pursed his lips. He took another sip of his drink. It was hot in his throat. He thought, _Fuck it_ , mostly because he was too drunk to think anything else. What did it matter if Magnus Bane knew? He was sure the news would be circulating around the Downworld shortly, if it hadn’t already.

He put the glass down a little too hard, turning to give Magnus a wonderful, unhappy smile. “I’m getting divorced. Actually, no, scratch that. I _am_ divorced.”

Magnus blinked at him, taken aback. Alec was pretty sure he’d never seen him look surprised by anything, even when the Clave had some new bullshit to throw at him. Magnus was always — almost annoyingly — composed at every meeting of the Downworld cabinet. Alec was, too, so he tried not to fault him for it.

Magnus seemed to struggle to find his words for a moment. “Well. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that. Of course, I don’t know you, but I’d always thought you and Mrs. Lightwood were well matched.” He caught himself and paused. “My mistake. Ms. Branwell, that is.”

“We are. But that doesn’t matter.”

“Brokenhearted?” Magnus raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to Alec’s drink. “Her decision, I take it?”

When Alec only hummed, Magnus took the opportunity to continue the conversation. “That’s unfortunate, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll find another soon enough. Every girl in Alicante must be clambering to marry a Lightwood, and the head of a prestigious Institute at that.”

Briefly, Alec wondered why he was still here, talking to him. Though, he supposed, perhaps the Downworld put as much weight in Shadowhunter gossip as Shadowhunters themselves did.

He’d heard a variation of Magnus’s words more times throughout his life than he could count. And yet, for some reason, it sat uncomfortably with him now. That was what would be expected, wouldn’t it? He was certain his parents would be calling him as soon as they heard the news with a list of worthy female suitors. _Female_. 

_For once in your life, Alec, be a little selfish._

“It’s not like that,” he found himself saying before he had thought it through. “I’m not brokenhearted. We weren’t in love. She was just…” He caught himself, wondering why he felt like he might be choking. Were his eyes watering? “My best friend,” he finished quietly, so softly he wasn’t sure that Magnus would hear him.

If he did, he kept his expression carefully neutral. Alec could tell that it was _carefully_ because Magnus’s earlier surprise and later sympathy had both vanished like they’d never existed. The warlock’s face gave nothing away, and he didn’t offer any condolences now.

After a beat, Alec continued. “I mean, we loved each other. We weren’t _in_ love. But it didn’t matter. I thought we were happy.”

He watched Magnus pull his bottom lip between his teeth, exhaling like he’d had the breath knocked out of him and was at total loss at how to retrieve it. Instead of looking at Alec, he turned to face the bottles lined up on shelves all the way down the bar. “That’s…” A pause. Almost absentmindedly, Magnus ran his fingers across the stubble on his chin. It was groomed exceptionally well, the edges crisp. “That definitely warrants getting drunk alone at a Downworld establishment.”

He looked a little sheepish, but he relaxed when Alec only laughed.

Alec quirked the corner of his mouth up for the first time in days. “I’d say.”

They sat together in unexpectedly comfortable silence. A minute passed, and Magnus tapped his hand on the bartop as though to snap himself out of it. “Well then, Mr. Lightwood. I suppose I should leave you to wallow in peace. Unless you don’t mind the company?”

The question wasn’t expectant. It was just an offer. It didn’t seem like it would make any difference to Magnus what he chose. Alec looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. Magnus was as immaculately dressed as always and his words were as eloquent as ever — even the polite, respectful way he addressed him was no different.

“Alec,” he offered. “I don’t mind.”

.

_Probably_ , Alec thought when he woke up the next morning on a very expensive couch in the middle of Brooklyn, _I should’ve minded_.

His head was pounding. Sunlight poured into every corner of the loft, too bright. He patted down his jean pockets, wondering where his jacket was, and put his head in his hands when he didn’t find a stele. Shit.

“Here,” a gentle voice interrupted, setting a cup of something hot and green on the coffee table in front of him. Alec looked at it, tried to process it, and then followed the hand up to the man that owned it. When Magnus caught his eye, he offered him a sympathetic smile. “It’ll help, I promise.”

_Probably_ , Alec thought as he picked up the very expensive teacup, _I shouldn’t be accepting strange drinks from warlocks I barely know._

He was in this deep. What did it matter anymore? Alec took a sip.

And immediately pulled back, looking at the drink in disgust. “What _is_ this?”

Magnus snorted and fell gracefully onto the couch beside him. He left a respectable amount of space between them, but his arm stretched across the back of the couch so it was hovering behind Alec. “A potion, naturally,” he replied. “As I said, it’ll help with your hangover. I can assure you I’ve tested it many, many times.”

Alec eyed him warily, but he steeled himself and took another sip. It was just as awful as the first, but at least his eyes were burning a little bit less than when he woke up.

In slow, cautious sips, he drank half of it before Magnus decided to speak again.

“How are we feeling today?” he asked. It sounded like a leading question, but Alec didn’t know where he was being led. “Beyond the hangover, I mean.”

_We_. He snorted. Like Magnus had ever had a similar experience to what he was going through.

He set the cup back down on the coffee table and combed a hand through his hair. It must be a mess, with the way it caught on his fingers. All of him must be a mess. He didn’t doubt that his eyes were red or that there were prominent bags beneath them. Sighing, he rested his elbows on his knees and let his hands hang together. “Good,” Alec replied. He caught the unimpressed look Magnus pinned him with. “I’m _fine_ ,” he amended, reluctantly. “I should get back to the Institute.”

Magnus snorted. “Ah, of course.” Alec was confused at the heat behind it. Magnus rolled his eyes, too, raising an eyebrow as he waved a hand in the air. “ _Shadowhunters_. Angelic duty, and all that. What does it matter if you’re going through something? God forbid you miss a day of paperwork.”

Alec frowned at him. “Magnus, I’m the head of the Institute. I have to be there to assign patrols and decide which threats warrant what response. Do you want it to turn into chaos out there?”

“Of course not,” Magnus replied, but it was still tight. “You’re right. Best to get back to it. I suppose I’ll see you at the next cabinet meeting, then. And don’t worry, I can assure you I won’t tell anyone that you spent the night on my couch. Or about the state of your marriage, as it is.”

Alec watched him sweep himself up off the couch, still frowning. Magnus was already heading towards one of the doors leading deeper into the loft, clearly expecting Alec to let himself out and for that to be the end of things.

“Magnus,” Alec stopped him. He met his eyes when Magnus turned back to face him. “That’s not what I meant. _Thank you_ , for making sure I was okay last night. And… Listening, I guess. I really do need to be at the Institute, but I— I mean I’m — It’s just, that doesn’t mean we need to go back to all the political formalities and—” He cut himself off, furrowed his brow, stared at his hands. What was he trying to say? Fuck, why had he said anything in the first place?

Thankfully, he was saved from having to figure it out. Magnus softened immediately, reapproaching the couch. When Alec finally looked at him again he was wearing a peculiar expression, as though Alec was a puzzle he was trying to find all the pieces to.

“Alexander Lightwood,” he said, but it was warm instead of proper. “What a surprise you’re turning out to be.”

Alec held his gaze. “A good one?”

Magnus smiled. “Yes, I believe so.”

.

The next time Alec decided he really wanted to get drunk and forget Shadowhunters existed, let alone that he was one, Magnus met him at the bar. Alec spared him a glance, then flagged down the bartender.

“That bad?” he asked as Alec took the seat beside him.

Alec took a very pointed taste of his drink. “That bad. There was this warlock in the cabinet meeting this morning who decided today was the day to be difficult and make all kinds of demands he _knew_ the Clave would never go for.”

Magnus hummed innocently, nursing his own drink. Much more elegant than Alec’s, some kind of cocktail that changed colours as they talked. “Well, that does sound rough. Drinks are on me tonight!”

“They better be,” Alec grumbled, but there was no heat behind it.

.

“You seem happier,” Lydia commented when she returned from Alicante. Alec couldn’t stop himself from staring at her hands. They looked wrong without the Lightwood family ring. Even the tan line had faded.

He shrugged, going back to the report he’d been reading. Ravener attack at the docks, an easy takedown that shouldn’t have required as much paperwork as it did. “I guess.”

Lydia leaned against his desk, her hip brushing his arm. The wedding rune had faded, too, from the both of them. Alec had tracked it all month, watching the black turn to gray and then white and then nothing. It had burned, a little. He’d felt her leave him, all of the comfort she’d provided him gone like all the other traces of their marriage.

It ached. Less now than before, but not by much. God, he missed her. Lydia had been his partner the last three years, his rock, his equal. She’d shared his every burden, just as he’d shared hers, and made every triumph feel greater than it was.

“Have you met someone?” she asked casually, picking up a report he’d yet to go through. They fell into work together as they always had, not a word required to communicate what needed doing. He’d missed this, too. It’d been exhausting trying to do it all without her.

“Lydia,” he said. He stamped the report and put it with the rest that he’d approved, already reaching for the next.

“Alec,” she countered. “Come on, it’s me.”

_That’s exactly why this sucks_ , Alec thought bitterly, then checked himself. He didn’t have the right to be angry with her, and he certainly didn’t want to be. He wouldn’t lose her as a friend, too.

He sighed. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. Are you?”

Lydia brushed him off. “Of course not.” There would never be anyone but John for her, they both knew. It was why this had been good for the both of them. Or so Alec had thought, anyway. “Why aren’t you, though? You should… get out there, you know? Don’t be afraid. The world’s changing, Alec. And no one would take the Institute away from you now.”

Alec shook his head. He stared at the words on the report until they blurred, biting down hard on his lip. When he tasted blood, he relented. “What if I don’t _want_ to?”

Lydia wilted, looking a bit wrecked. “Oh, Alec.” She rested her hand on his, all bare skin where there should have been metal. She ducked her head and waited until he met her eyes, however briefly. “I’m sorry. I know how hard this is, I don’t mean to make light of that. It’s just that… I _know_ how happy you could be, Alec, if you let yourself. You deserve that. You deserve everything possible. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known. I just wish you saw that, too.”

Swallowing, Alec looked away to fight the sting behind his eyes without her watching. She’d said those words before, more than once. _I wish you could see what I do_. When she’d drawn an iratze on his bleeding knuckles. When she’d held his hand, firm, under the table at dinner with his parents. When she’d pushed him to fight for a Downworld cabinet in spite of all his doubts.

Lydia was the only person in Alec’s life who had never expected anything but for him to try his best. And she had believed, unwaveringly, that his best would be enough, no matter the challenge. She had never told him that he hadn’t achieved perfection or that he should’ve tried harder. He’d been able to swallow Isabelle’s disappointment and Jace’s anger over their marriage because he’d been certain, just as she was, that they would be enough for each other.

“I’m trying,” he whispered, and hated how small he sounded.

Lydia kissed his temple. “That’s all I ask.”

.

“Have you ever been married?” he asked Magnus, two days later when they met at the Hunter’s Moon. It happened often enough now that Alec was beginning to wonder if it should be called a regular occurrence.

“No,” Magnus told him easily. Nothing ever seemed to sway him. He looked as composed drinking his second cocktail of the night as he did sitting through meetings at the Institute. “Why? Thinking of giving it another go?”

“ _No_ ,” Alec echoed, a little too quickly. He coughed, touched his thumb to the base of his ring finger. Shaking his head, he tried to focus back on Magnus. This subject hadn’t come up since the very first night they’d talked. Mostly, they just got drunk, played some pool, and complained about their shared acquaintances. They knew very little about each other, despite how comfortable Alec now felt in his presence. “No one ever made you want to? There was never someone you loved enough?”

A cloud passed over Magnus’s face and Alec knew that he had touched a nerve. He watched Magnus’s grip tighten on his cue stick. Yet, both Magnus’s tone and his expression were very carefully reigned in when he responded, “It’s not a matter of how much you _love_ someone, Alec. I have been with plenty of people, and I have loved a great many of them with my entire heart and soul. I never needed a ring or a piece of paper to prove it. Besides, most of those I’d been with I couldn’t have married even if I had wanted to. Same-sex marriages were outlawed by nearly every culture for a disgustingly long time.”

His words were defensive, as though Alec had attacked him. It made Alec swallow, his stomach twisting. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s fine,” Magnus said, too quickly to mean it.

“No, I clearly touched a nerve. I didn’t mean to apply that you weren’t… _capable_ of love, or something. I just—” Alec stared at the pool table. He’d been coming here these past weeks to forget that he was a Shadowhunter. Now, he could feel every rune that was on his body. Every rune that wasn’t, too. His hands itched to fall into parade rest behind him, but he held his cue to his chin. “Lydia’s back from Alicante.”

No less tense, Magnus asked, “And how did that go?”

Alec glanced at him, but that made it too hard to find his words. He looked away. “Good, I guess. We’re still running the Institute together. That won’t change, I think.”

He could feel Magnus studying him. “Is she seeing someone else?”

“No.” Alec shook his head and wondered why it choked him up to say it. He had yet to cry in front of anyone over this, but he thought that streak might be about to come to an end. He swallowed his tears as he usually did. “She wouldn’t. She just wants _me_ to.”

Finally, Magnus’s defenses eased up a little, just enough for him to frown. “Is there a particular reason for that?” he inquired, tactful as ever.

Alec didn’t have to think about what to say or how to word it. “She just wants me to be happy.”

“That’s sweet,” Magnus offered. “And understandable. And it bothers you because…?”

Alec clenched his jaw. His eyes bored a hole into the table. “I can’t.”

How many people were here? How many who knew who he was? He hadn’t spotted any Shadowhunters, and no Downworlder that he’d recognized, but maybe they’d slipped in while he wasn’t looking. But the pool table was tucked away a bit, off to the side and close to the wall. It was unlikely anyone could hear them, or that they were paying attention.

Magnus, having worked out that he was clearly missing something, pressed his lips together. He sounded confused. He looked it, too. Again, Alec felt like a puzzle he was trying to piece together. “Why not?”

_Why?_ That was the question, wasn’t it? It was the part that Lydia, Jace, and Isabelle had never understood, despite their best efforts. They couldn’t feel what he felt, and they hadn’t spent the better part of their lives living with the consequences.

“I just, can’t,” he repeated, frustrated. “It’s not— “

He swallowed, composed himself. “It’s not what anyone else would want for me. The Clave, especially. Nevermind my parents.”

Magnus still hadn’t gotten it. “Isn’t your father remarried himself? And I thought the Clave had moved past seeing divorce as some great sin.”

“There are other sins, worse ones,” Alec told him. “In their eyes.”

“Like what?”

“Like… loving the wrong person? There’s just certain ways they expect a Shadowhunter to be. And despite the progress we’ve made in accepting Downworlders, I don’t see those expectations changing anytime soon.”

Finally, Alec thought, it seemed to be dawning on Magnus. He looked at Alec with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth, before he caught himself. His demeanor changed so that it was more befitting of someone dealing with a terrified animal than a conversation. “Alec, are you trying to say you’re…”

“Gay,” Alec finished for him. “I’m gay.”

He could tell it wasn’t something that Magnus had considered before, not for him. Oddly, he felt more insecure than reassured. He should’ve been happy that he’d passed so well, that even someone who was probably very experienced in telling who was attracted to men hadn’t noticed. Instead, he felt… Alone, a little. It seemed that a part of him had been hoping that Magnus would have understood him where most people didn’t.

Sensing his spiral, Magnus slowly rounded the table. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, only a few feet away from him now. Alec thought it was the most uncomposed he’d ever heard him. He’d never seen Magnus with no words, and nothing to mask that he’d been caught off guard. Alec watched him shake his head, the blue streaks in his hair catching the light. “You have well and truly surprised me yet again, Shadowhunter.”

Alec met his eyes. He found his voice enough to whisper, “In a good way?”

Magnus’s disbelief melted into an unguarded smile. Something new lit itself aflame in the space between them, a spark that Alec was tentative to reach for.

“ _Definitely._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> First off, a great big thank you to [jeanboulet](jeanboulet.tumblr.com) for beta-ing this and not judging me for how inconsistent my capitalization is. Also for being really excited to read it and getting me even more excited to post it :P Another thanks to [Cor321](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cor321/pseuds/Cor321) for giving it a read-through as well!
> 
> This is the first fic I've finished in a while (one glance at my profile will tell you so), and I was so engrossed I wrote it in one night, along with the first part of a follow-up fic. Something about this idea just grabbed me and wouldn't let go. There will almost definitely be a sequel, and maybe some other one-shots as well, so I'm turning this into a series. If there's something you want to see in this verse, let me know!
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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